A World Unclear And Unknown
by Dinosaur1234
Summary: Albie Durnin and her sister are left in the care of their godfather, the malicious Sheriff of Nottingham. Their new world is different from the one they had known previously. Confronted with a battle between justice and injustice, law and outlaw that she does not understand, Albie must choose a side.
1. Chapter 1

Nothing was ever darker than Sherwood Forest at night. As the carriage rumbled along the dusky track, it was only ever lit by thin shafts of starlight that broke through the trees. Despite the impenetrable black, Albie Durnin lay on top of the carriage, her legs swinging off the roof. The cold night air stung her cheeks pleasantly and the soft rustling of leaves was sweeter than a lullaby; she was rocked gently to sleep.

"This is our forest."

What? Albie sat up. Glancing around her, she could see nothing but darkness, though she had definitely heard a voice. Her chest rose and fell heavily with anticipation. They had almost made it to Nottingham with no difficulty, surely not now-

"Didn't you hear me? This is our forest."

Albie slammed her hand down on the roof and the carriage juddered to a halt. Swiftly she jumped down from the roof, circled the perimeter of the carriage and pulled the ornate door ajar.

"What's the matter?" a familiar voice said from inside.

"Did you hear that?" Albie asked, as the familiar voice moved towards her, "someone's following us."

Sir James Brandon, her escort, emerged fully, allowing his full frame to dominate Albie's eye line.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword, "I don't see anything."

Albie turned around, squinting, trying desperately to make out any movement. The horseman clicked his tongue impatiently.

"There's nothing there, m'lady," he said, "and I'd prefer to make it to Nottingham before daybreak so could you please-"

There was a whistling sound in the air and the horseman fell silent. Albie held her breath. Placing an intrepid hand on Brandon's arm, she slowly moved towards the front of the carriage where the horseman had been sat. Albie sighed with relief; he was there still, leant against the hard wood of the carriage, but… there was an arrow in his head. Albie screamed. The sharp shriek of metal against metal rang out as Brandon pulled forth his sword, pushing Albie between him and the carriage.

"Get back inside," he said, "get back inside to your sister."

Albie shuffled towards the door of the carriage, trying to control her uncontrollable whimpers. Just as she turned to clamber into the carriage, a hand gripped her upper arm tightly and she was pulled away. Albie screamed again.

"Didn't you hear me, missy?" a gruff voice whispered in her ear, "This is our forest."

As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, Albie could make out her surroundings more clearly. Brandon stood in front of her, sword drawn, a furious look directed at the man who held her. Albie noticed two other men emerging from the trees behind Brandon.

"Behind you!" she cried, kicking at the man who gripped her.

Brandon spun around and launched himself at the men. The man who held her chuckled as sword hit sword.

"Your friend doesn't stand a chance," he laughed, his foul breath blowing in her ear.

"You obviously don't know James Brandon very well," she replied, and continued to struggle.

Moments later she was mostly free, a resolute hand remained on her wrist however, nails biting into the skin.

"Let her go," she heard Brandon shout from behind her – he had obviously defeated his opponents with ease Albie noted with pleasure.

"Not a chance," the man replied, looking at Albie with a look she had only ever seen men wear when looking at young women, "we're going to have some fun."

"Brandon!" Albie called out in desperation as the man pulled her towards him.

She heard footsteps through leaves but then, silence.

"Brandon!" she cried again.

"Your friend's in a spot of bother," the man replied, and spun her round so she could see Brandon with a knife at his neck.

Albie caught the latter's eye; he looked scared – scared for _her_.

"Albie," he said, trying with all his might to keep the small, shining dagger from his throat.

Before she knew what was happening, Albie was pushed to the ground, her skirts lifted. She screamed. Her feet made contact with the man as she kicked out but this did nothing to stem his efforts. Her wrists were pressed to the ground and she squeezed her eyes shut, her face flooded with tears. The man continued to chuckle gleefully. Then, that familiar whistling in the air. The man was silent. Albie opened her eyes tentatively; the man collapsed on top of her. The full weight of his body and stench pressing her down into the ground, she screamed again. There was another whistle and moments later, hands were pulling her out from under the man. It was Brandon.

"Are you alright?" he asked, turning her to face him, crouching down slightly to stare into her eyes intently.

Albie nodded vigorously, then looked back again to see the man who had tried to… had tried to…. He had an arrow in his back, blood pooling in his clothes where it had struck.

"Are you alright?"

Albie turned, Brandon turned. Behind them stood a group of men – five of them. One of them held a bow and quiver in his hands.

"You saved us?" Brandon asked, before Albie could say anything.

"Yes," the man with the bow replied.

"Who are you?" Albie said, her voice high and pitchy.

"I'm Robin Hood," the man replied, "and these are my men," he added, gesturing behind him.

Some of the men raised their hands half-heartedly in greeting; others did nothing, merely stared.

"Well, I thank you," Brandon said sincerely.

"Yes," Albie agreed, "thank you."

Robin Hood smiled kindly and inclined his head.

"Albie?" a child's voice called out from behind them, "what's going on?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Sophie, get back inside!" Brandon shouted.

The little girl pulled an indignant face but obliged. Albie glanced back at Robin Hood before striding back towards the carriage and her sister. Sophie was sat with her arms crossed in the corner, her bottom lip sticking out the way it always did when she was cross.

"You woke me up," she said crossly, "and then Brandon shouted at me."

Albie picked her up with difficulty – the carriage was only so big – and placed her on her lap. Sophie looked slightly confused as Albie hugged her tightly.

"He didn't mean to shout, Sophie," the latter said eventually, "we just bumped into some not nice people and he wanted to make sure you were safe."

"I'm safe, Albie," Sophie assured her, "are you safe?"

Albie smiled at her and nodded.

"Is Brandon safe?" Sophie asked, Albie nodded again.

"And Matthew?"

Albie froze. Matthew, the horseman, was dead. What should she say?

"Matthew went away," Albie said finally, "he was only meant to take us for a little while, he's gone home. Brandon's going to take us the rest of way."

Sophie looked a little crestfallen; she had liked Matthew and his tendency to swear. Soon her sorrow was interrupted by a yawn however. Her eyes closed and she was soon asleep in Albie's arms. Her sister stroked her hair, straining her ears to hear what Brandon was saying to the man, Robin Hood, outside the carriage. She couldn't hear anything so, moments later, she too had fallen asleep.

It was light when Albie awoke. Outside the carriage she could hear people, the hustle and bustle of Nottingham. She sat, Sophie in her arms, waiting in silence until the carriage pulled to a halt. As she shook her sister awake, the door to the carriage was opened. Brandon held it open for her, looking unmistakably exhausted.

"You look tired," Albie said, as she dismounted from the carriage, a dishevelled Sophie trotting after her.

"I have a bone to pick with your godfather," Brandon said darkly.

Albie raised her eyebrows. Turning, she gazed around her. They were in a courtyard that she didn't recognise – despite Brandon's assurances that she had been there before. Half of the courtyard was lit by bright morning sunlight; the other half was shrouded in the shadow of the enormous castle that stood above them. It was all square, grey bricks, none of the spiralled towers Sophie had been so excitedly anticipating. Albie's sister was none the wiser however, as she noted the stables opposite them and ran forward delightedly to pet the horses.

"Sheriff Vaisey," Brandon called out with mock delight, addressing a person to Albie's left.

Albie turned, soothing her skirts, to face a bald man almost half her height, dressed in layers of thick black cloaks. The Sheriff approached them, walking quickly, his hands raised at his sides glittered with multi coloured rings.

"I believe you've been expecting us," Brandon said, when the Sheriff reached them, "this is-"

"Yes, yes," the Sheriff interjected, "my wonderful goddaughters – now where's the money for their keeping? Their brother promised me a substantial amount."

Brandon glanced at Albie who looked appropriately appalled; this was not the warm welcome she was expecting.

"I'll get it right away," Brandon said, and disappeared into the carriage.

Albie stood awkwardly with the Sheriff, waiting for Brandon and the money. The Sheriff observed her with an expression with false delight and true disgust.

"How old are you?" he asked eventually, feeling he must show some interest.

"Seventeen," Albie replied, "and Sophie is six."

"Yes, yes, Sophie," the Sheriff murmured in agreement, "ah!" he added as Brandon reappeared.

He held open the small chest, it contained a small fortune. The Sheriff's eyes lit up. Albie wasn't sure she liked him at all. Once the Sheriff was done lusting over his new wealth, he wrestled the box from Brandon's arms and gestured them inside the castle.

"Come, come," he said pottering away quickly, "the servants will bring your things."

"Sheriff!" Brandon called after him as he strode back into the castle.

Albie grabbed Sophie by the hand as she continued to fawn over the horses, and dragged her after Brandon and the Sheriff. By the time she caught up with them Brandon was in full flow about the men they had encountered that night. The Sheriff's face was dark, very dark.

"Robin Hood…" he muttered furiously.

"No," Albie interrupted quickly, "Robin Hood was the one who saved us."

"No, you are mistaken."

Albie turned to look up at Brandon curiously. What was he talking about? Robin Hood _had_ saved them.

"No I'm not," Albie said, her brow furrowed, "Brandon, what are you talking about?"

"Robin Hood and his men attacked us," Brandon continued, staring meaningfully at the Sheriff, "what do you intend to do about it? Your goddaughter was almost raped – something I don't think her brother would have appreciated."

"No, no," the Sheriff agreed, clutching the money closer to his chest, "I find Robin Hood is a persistent spot that needs to be picked – I'll put my best man on it."

Brandon nodded appreciatively. Albie opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her with a look.

"You! Guard!" the Sheriff cried suddenly, "bring me Gisbourne. I need him. _Now_."


	3. Chapter 3

The room she and Sophie had been given was lovely. Some care had obviously gone into its arrangement; Albie wondered by whom as it certainly couldn't have been the Sheriff. Sophie had fallen asleep once again on the soft four poster bed that sat in the centre of the room. Albie perched beside her, stroking her hair. Brandon shut the chamber door. Albie glanced up at him.

"Why did you tell the Sheriff we were attacked by Robin Hood?" she asked.

Brandon strode towards her, took her by the arm and moved over to the corner of the room furthest from the door.

"Hood told me all about the Sheriff," he whispered, conscious of the castle guard that stood only a few metres away, on the other side of the wall.

"What did he tell you?"

"That we shouldn't trust him," Brandon replied, "and that it would be safer if I told him Robin Hood and his men attacked us."

"Why?" Albie pressed.

"Because he's a bad man."

Albie punched his arm.

"I'm not Sophie," she said angrily, after Brandon looked dejectedly at her, "tell me the truth."

He sighed and ran his hands through dark hair. Staring down at her, he remained silent.

"Why won't you tell me?" Albie asked, scared now.

Brandon gripped her by the shoulders and glared at her fiercely.

"If I tell you," he said, "_if! _You must promise never to speak of it, _never_. Don't tell Sophie, don't go running around Nottingham in uproar, don't do anything. There's nothing _you_ can do about it Albie, do you understand?"

Albie nodded. Brandon stood up straight once more.

"The Sheriff is a traitor," he said.

"_What?_"

"He's a traitor," Brandon repeated, "He wants to kill the King."

Albie was quiet. Her hands were clammy, she felt hot all over.

"Albie," Brandon said quickly, "please, _please_. You promised."

"I know," she replied, flustered, "how does Hood know?" she added.

"Robin Hood used to be Lord Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon. He was in the Holy Land with the King but when he came back the Sheriff had given his lands to man we met before, Guy of Gisbourne. Gisbourne was sent by the Sheriff to kill the King, Robin saw him in the Holy Land."

"Is he sure it was Gisbourne?" Albie asked, her brow furrowed.

"He has a tattoo," Brandon replied, "On his arm; Robin said he saw the same tattoo on the man who attacked the King."

"And you believe him?" Albie tittered nervously, "you trust him above the Sheriff? A man put in authority by the _King._"

"Vaisey was appointed by Richard's brother, Prince John," Brandon said, "and why wouldn't I trust Robin Hood? He saved our lives and asked for nothing in return."

"He's an outlaw."

Albie moved back to the bed and sank down, clenching and unclenching sweaty fists. Brandon followed her curiously.

"Why are you reacting like this?" he asked, "a minute ago you were outraged I told the Sheriff that Hood attacked us."

"I'm sensing a common theme," Albie said tersely, looking up at him, "first my father, then the Sheriff. Not everyone I meet can be a traitor. And if they are then maybe that says something about King Richard – maybe he is a bad King."

"The Sheriff is nothing like your father," Brandon assured her.

"You've known him all of two minutes!" Albie cried, leaping to her feet, "my father was executed for speaking out against the King, for speaking out against authority – Robin Hood is an outlaw for the same crime, there is a scaffold in the courtyard with his name on it, the Sheriff said so himself!"

"Your father was speaking out against the injustice of the Crusade," Brandon replied, trying desperately to calm her, "and he was right was he not? The way they are treating the Ottomans is wrong."

"And now he's dead!"

"But he died for a good cause," Brandon appealed, "the Sheriff rebels for more power, more wealth."

"I don't care what he rebels for," Albie replied, her voice abrupt and calm, "I'm not going to die, Sophie's not going to die, you're not going to die. We're not going to cross the Sheriff, you said so yourself. We're going to forget we ever met Robin Hood."

Brandon crouched beside her. Albie refused to look at him.

"Albie," he began quietly, "when I said that we couldn't do anything, I meant only you. _You_ can't do anything…but you can't expect me not to."

Albie turned to stare at him; she felt her eyes fill with tears. Brandon placed a hand on either side of her face soothingly.

"Listen, listen," he said, "Nothing's going to happen to me, I promise. But the King is my King; I couldn't stand by and let the Sheriff plot against him. It wouldn't be right. I'm going to help Robin Hood."

"Get out," Albie whispered.

"Albie…"

"Get out!" she shrieked, pushing him forcefully away from her.

Brandon stared up at her from the floor in amazement.

"I won't see you die, James Brandon," Albie muttered, "so-"

"So you won't see me at all," Brandon finished for her, getting to his feet.

He strode towards the door but, with one hand placed on the knob, turned back to Albie and said:

"Either way you and Sophie will be safe, Albie, and that's all that matters."


	4. Chapter 4

Even though Sophie and Brandon sat beside her, Albie felt lonely. The sun was setting and it was dinner time; an ostensive occasion – Albie wasn't sure why – but even so it was one she was not enjoying. The Sheriff sat at the head of the table in the Great Hall, ripping meat from a bone like a rabid dog. Half way down the table on the right sat Albie, Sophie close by her side, with Brandon on the other. Opposite them sat a man Albie had known for less than five minutes but still hated and feared all at once. Albie eyed Guy of Gisbourne's arms nervously, hoping her vision would penetrate through leather to see if he did indeed have that incriminating tattoo. Sophie giggled pleasantly beside her, enjoying the lavish choice of food, while Brandon maintained polite conversation with the Sheriff. How is he doing that, Albie wondered, behaving so collectedly when he knows… Knows what? What did Brandon know? Brandon knew rumours, rumours from an outlaw. Albie was not about to trust the word of, or risk everything over, the word of an outlaw.

"I knew your father."

Albie met Sir Guy's eyes as he spoke. Her eyelids fluttered; one mention of her father and she was struck dumb. She did not reply.

"Yes," the Sheriff drawled from the other end of the table, "your father," he added, almost mockingly, "in all honesty I don't know why he made me godfather, I'm not exactly the god fearing type. But then, your father wasn't one for wise decisions."

Albie was silent.

"John Durnin was a good man," Brandon interjected amicably, smiling slightly at the Sheriff.

"Yes, yes of course," the Sheriff agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but that's the key word isn't it? _Was_."

"John Durnin was a good man," Sir Guy muttered.

"Oh what would you know about good men," the Sheriff said scornfully, "I liked him in any case. What about your brother, Annie? Is he a good man?"

"My name's Albie."

"Albie then," the Sheriff corrected himself, equally as dismissive as before, "Albie, is your brother a good man?"

Albie swallowed, and out of the corner of her eye made brief eye contact with Brandon whose jaw, she noticed, was tight. Turning back to the Sheriff she replied:

"No."

The Sheriff chuckled darkly. Brandon let out a deep breath, and Sophie turned to her quizzically, her little face scrunched up in confusion.

"Looks like we have a little sibling animosity," the Sheriff chortled, "and why is your brother not a good man, goddaughter dear?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But talk we must!" cried the Sheriff, jumping to his feet, "the sibling bond is one that must not be broken," he continued, ambling slowly towards…Sir Guy, "it requires mutual love and affection, respect and protection…"

Albie watched as the Sheriff began slowly massaging Sir Guy's shoulders. The latter's face grew dark, and he stared out in front of him, shining eyes gleaming through matted black hair.

"You should ask our friend Gizzy here for a few tips," the Sheriff continued, bending down to whisper maliciously in Sir Guy's ear, "you should ask our friend Gizzy, about his _sister_."

In a blur of movement, Sir Guy was out of his seat and striding towards the door, which he slammed ferociously behind him. Sophie jumped at the loud noise. Albie placed a clammy hand in her sister's silently, the only sounds that rang out were the Sheriff's occasional snorts of laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

Albie could sense someone behind her. The courtyard was bare, the air crisp and cool, what were they doing out here? She turned. It was Gisbourne. Albie turned away again; she had nothing to say to him.

"I'm sorry about your father."

"I'm sorry about your sister."

Why did she say that? Where did that sudden surge of confidence come from? Albie regretted it immediately. She held her breath as she waited for a reply.

"You don't know what happened to my sister," Gisbourne said.

Albie didn't deny it.

"Tell me about your brother," he continued.

Albie's heart caught in her throat.

"No," she replied eventually, "I don't want to, I –"

"Tell me about your brother," Gisbourne repeated, moving closer to her.

"You tell me about your sister," Albie muttered, her eyes averting his gaze.

"I sold her," Gisbourne said darkly, "your turn."

"You _sold_ her?" Albie gasped, glancing up at him in shock.

She felt an overwhelming nausea running through her, the blood drained from her face.

"You sound surprised," Gisbourne chuckled.

"I'm disgusted," Albie replied.

"Oh," Gisbourne said, a bemused expression on his face, "I've offended you."

"She was your sister!" Albie cried.

"She still is my sister," Gisbourne said, "I needed money, I needed my land back. She understood."

"I don't understand it. Not even the Sheriff seems to understand and it's clear to me his morals are questionable enough."

"Ah," Gisbourne declared pleasantly, "the cat has claws."

Albie rubbed her palms together. She would not be provoked, she would not be provoked. What was it she had said to Brandon? 'We are not going to cross the Sheriff.' And she wasn't going to provoke Gisbourne either, nor was she going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was getting under her skin. She would not be provoked, she would not be provoked.

"Albie? Are you alright?"

Brandon was beside her. Despite their argument, Albie felt her shoulders sag with relief.

"Yes," she said, turning to him, "I'm fine."

Glancing behind her she noted that Gisbourne had disappeared.

"He was asking about Harry."

"Your brother? What did you tell him?" Brandon asked, concerned.

"I didn't tell him anything, I –"

"Did he ask about –"

"No, no. He didn't."

"Do you think he knows?"

"I don't know," Albie replied, "I hope not."


End file.
